CAPRI - Travel Hopefully

Capri notes 

Conca del Sogno,  Recommone:

Our trip to Capri yesterday recalled the (old) saying “It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive”. (*)

We were picked up from Conca in a  small dingy at 9 and gently put-putted out of tiny Recommone cove around the headland into Marina del Cantone bay.

Arrived at the short pier moments after a 20-seater boat had pulled alongside and tourists began boarding. Some manoeuvring by boat and dinghy and we were able to step up onto the jetty. We were quickly bundled on board as our boat reversed and resolutely headed away from the jetty.

     The passengers had split into three groups: four sitting up front, a family of four in the small cabin and the rest of us in the back, three young Irish lasses in shorts and goose pimples, a young couple very much into themselves and Vicky and me. 

    Captain Pepe, actually "the chap driving the boat" would be a more accurate description, spoke to each group explaining that we would tour abound the Isle of Capri first and dock at about 11. 

Pepe kept up an enthusiastic narrative along the way, pointing out the three little islands behind us originally summer home of the famous Russian ballet dancer Rudolph Nureyev. On our right as we skirted the mainland the grey stone forts built along the Amalfi coast in the 16th century to guard against  Saracen raiders.

   As Pepe pointed out more sights, it became clear we would be better sitting in the front. The Swiss German foursome happily squeezed up to let us sit beside them. 

    As we ploughed along towards the east end of Capri, the loquacious captain drew our attention to the Roman Emperor Tiberius former summer home Villa Jovis perched on the highest point of the island, which would have made it easier to defend. 

One of the distinctive features of Capri are the grottoes, caves carved into the rock by the sea.  There are many, the Blue Grotto being the most famous.  

First we are treated to the aptly named Meraviggliosa (Marvellous) grotto. Inside are stalagmites and stalactites and the water is pure, translucent and strikingly blue too. 

Next was Grotta Bianca (white) whose name was not reflected in its colour but was remarkable for its orderly queue of boats waiting to peek inside. Orderly that is until one big boy with "Blue Grotto Tours €18" emblazoned on its side barged straight in on the left. Fortunately it was in such a rush that a quick peek and then it pushed off having ticked that box. 

    Once inside we were able to marvel at the red amoeba attached to the inside of the cave at and below sea level. Again dramatically blue water. Two primary colours. 

     Skimming past another grotto or two our attention is drawn to a rust-red coloured building wedged in to and on top of a craggy peak directly above the sea. "Villa Malaparte named after the Italian author who built it.”

  Three "famous" faraglioni in the Bay of Naples, are next on the menu.  Scopolo (or Fuori), 106 m was used as a lighthouse in ancient times while the middle rock  Mezzo, has a big hole in the middle.

 "We call it King Kong because if you look it is shaped like a gorilla,” says Pepe.  As we steered through and looked up someone commented: "looks like a female". 

     By now we were into the bay of Marina Piccola where luxury villas compete with posh hotels and restaurants to catch our attention. This is also the place where Gracie Fields built her villa above La Canzone del Mare beach club, pool and restaurant which attracted the rich and famous from the world of 1950s and 60s showbiz.  (Add names).  

     We continue around the south of Capri passing more grottoes and lots of Puntas with wonderful names like Ventroso,  Marmolat and culminating at the lighthouse of Punta Carena. There we turn northwards along the west coast of the island, and wondering when we will reach the most famous grotto of all,  the Blue Grotto.

     Captain Pepe begins to prepare us for the bad news. "There are so many boats that queueing can take over an hour." Adding, "You have to transfer to a little rowing boat and they charge €14 per person."

    We round Punta  dell'Arcera with its regulation famous Villa, this one called Damecuta,  and there they are, the cluster of waiting boats outside what seems like the smallest grotto entrance we have seen all morning. Floating between them are several row boats sucking down four passengers from the larger boats to take into the famous grotto. 

   "Shall we wait or go on, we can wait if you want, but it will be an hour," says Pepe in a tone that says its up to you, while his words are formed to dissuade. The girls are unsure. Clearly they would like to see the grotto, but can feel the pressure of the rest of us saying its okay to go on.

     They chatter among themselves and finally the blonde in blue says, okay lets go and the other two concur. Why? I ask the non-blonde, “because she (the blonde in blue), is kind of our decision taker,” I am told. 

    I couldn't quite make out what language the girls had been using so I asked "What language are you speaking to each other?" A stare of  incomprehension, like she is wondering if I am serious and then she says “ English”, in what I now recognised as a broad Dublin accent. 

   Loud put-putting noise of engine, wind whipping away words, slapping of waves in the hull, are they the excuse for missing it?

       Meeting my fellow country-women opens the floodgates for ‘How are ye’.  They live in Putney in London but two are from Dublin and the blonde in blue is from Ashford in Wicklow, “Its between Bray and Arklow,” she explains when I ask her where it is.

         Having achieved his goal of getting us to forgo the Blue Grotto, Pepe motors off at a good clip to bring us to Marina Grande, the main port, or as the map says, Porto Commercial and Porto Touristico.  Docking beside a big black luxurious super-yacht he says we should be back by 4.45.

     In high spirits the girls gape at the huge super yacht and the blonde in blue can't resist having a picture taken beside the huge black symbol of unimaginable wealth. 

       Heading towards the centre of the harbour we are immersed in masses of people all wandering and wondering. Some jump into the Capri’s famous open-backed taxis, others, like us, head for the public transport to get up to Capri Town and Anacapri.

          The queue for the Funicolare, seems long so plough on to the bus stop, where we join the back of another queue, which we soon realise is actually an incredibly slow queue because the buses are small and only hold 12 seating and possibly another 10 or so crammed in standing. 

          After 15-20 minutes of non-movement and incessant chatter from a Scottish woman who lives in America and has opinions on everything, we decide to head back for the Funicular. Good move it turns out because what seemed like a big queue doesn't reflect the fact that the funicular can take 75 at a time! Good to know. 

        Getting off the funicular at Piazza Umberto see the fantastic views but realise that we still have a way to go to our target of Villa San Michele which has been recommended as a must-see by a friend.  

            Bus problem is same as at sea level, to little and too few. So now its talk to the taxi drivers.  “€20 to Anacapri and the Villa”. Turns out that is a flat rate, so if we can persuade  another couple to join us… Vicky talks to couple in the bus queue and convinces them that they can use their already purchased bus tickets on the way back. 

                The ride up the winding mountain road is spectacular as we take hairpin bends in a car that seems too long for these narrow roads. Being in an open car adds to the feeling of delight in the ride. 

            Anacapri and the villa are no less crowded than Capri below. We walk to the Villa on a narrow path lined with fancy shops and crowds of German-speaking tourists. The villa is a restoration of  a Roman villa by a German doctor, hence the crowds of Germans.  We decide against paying a stiff fee and opt instead for the views down to the coast from the path which skirts the villa. 

           Time to eat but where? So many cafes and restaurants and no way of knowing which are good. A lady in the villa had told us there is a good pizza place beside the church, but we cant find the church. just as well perhaps  because we pass by a take-away pizza place and the smells are so good we pop inside. 

       There we find a little counter where we can eat what turns out to be the best pizza ever, or so it tastes.

         Back in the main square  the inevitable and unmoving queue for the bus to go back to the funicular.  I get chatting to a man beside a stall. "You must be local, you are wearing warm clothes, unlike us tourists." After chatting a while he tells me there is another bus stop, "100 metres back" where we have a better chance of getting on a bus.

       Local knowledge proves invaluable as we are soon on a jam-packed bus that doesn't even pull over at the main square queue.  

       Then it us gelata time in the Piazzata. Slightly unpleasant if understandable sign says "ice cream purchased at the  counter will be charged double if consumed at a table".

      We consume it on a bench in the square with a great view over the sea and who should appear but the three girls who have "spent our time eating and drinking wine".  The blonde in blue insists on taking our photo despite our protestations that it's not necessary. Not bad snaps as it turns out. 

(*) It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive. True contentment derives from the doing of something, not its end point. Anticipation is often more exciting than the event itself. The saying was coined in 1881 by the Scottish novelist, essayist, and poet Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-94). ...